Jack and Clay, donning full protective suits, goggles, and respirators, entered the morgue.
Compared to corpses that had been dead for a long time, were severely decomposed, or even reduced to skeletons, this near-giant state was a far greater test of one's mental endurance.
Lying on the dissection table, Jessica Townsend no longer resembled the voluptuous blonde beauty seen in the surveillance video.
Dark purple-red lividity and a network of venous decay covered her body. Countless cuts on her disfigured face had pulled back the flesh, exposing the discolored muscles and fascia beneath. The white bones of the jaw were clearly visible.
In reality, the body, after the forensic autopsy, was less gruesome than it had been when first discovered. The body fluids had been largely flushed out, the decaying gases had been completely released, and it had been cryogenically frozen.
Jack, holding the autopsy report provided by the Korean Medical Examination Office, stood silently by, waiting for Clay to finish. "Tell me your diagnosis. What's the cause of death?"
Even through his breathing mask, a faint stench of corpse lingered in his nostrils.
Clay was a veteran of countless murders, but faced with a decomposing corpse, sealed in a plastic bag for over three days in temperatures of 20 or 30 degrees Celsius, his innate instincts still made him swallow repeatedly.
"If you can't stand it, leave. Don't spit into the mask; it'll give you nightmares."
Seeing Clay's lack of response, Jack knew he had reached his limit. He patted his shoulder and let him go while he finished the rest of the examination.
After leaving the morgue and cleaning himself, he removed his protective gear and carefully washed himself three times before heading out into the hallway.
Clay leaned against the hallway wall, his face still drained of color. Seeing Jack emerge, a glint of anger lingered in his eyes. He asked gravely, "The wounds on her face were inflicted before death, weren't they?"
A key difference between antemortem and postmortem injuries is the shape of the wound. In antemortem wounds, the tissue is clearly split and everted, with the edges slightly curled. Even in a severely decomposed body, this is still visible upon closer inspection.
"Yes, the cause of death was excessive blood loss, and the killer slit her throat last." Jack nodded, incredibly pleased with his performance.
Clay took the cooling oil from Jack and, imitating him, applied it to his temples and philtrum. He instantly felt refreshed, his complexion noticeably improving, and then a look of confusion crossed his face.
"But I didn't find any signs of restraints, and there's no bruising or broken skin on the wrists or ankles."
"A large dose of anesthetic," Jack pointed to his left shoulder. "There's a needle mark here, neatly executed, indicating the killer injected her after subduing her."
"So the killer is likely a strong man. In that case, the prosecutor might be right. We should really focus our investigation on the white man who was at the club earlier."
Despite his words, Clay's tone was questioning, clearly indicating he wasn't entirely certain.
"Perhaps, but the white man in the surveillance footage was too impulsive, and..." At this point, Jack subconsciously glanced back toward the morgue.
"Don't you think the injuries on the victim's face are too many, even if it's just disfigurement? If it was an impulsive crime, venting anger at the victim's beauty,"
Jack said, slamming his head against the wall. "Smashing the face is obviously more satisfying than cutting it piece by piece. Besides, the victim was anesthetic and barely felt any pain. This method is more psychological than physical torture."
Clay's cheeks twitched as he imagined himself half-anesthetized, watching a knife slice and dig at his face.
"So you're still leaning towards a serial killer?"
Jack knew his crimes were never going to be easy (that would be very unpleasant for the readers), and he already knew it.
"The killer's torture methods were strange. Many of the injuries were symmetrical, like around the eyes and cheeks. Unfortunately, the temperatures here are still quite high in September, and the plastic bagging has exacerbated the decomposition and swelling, making it impossible to discern many details.
If Dr. Temperley Brainerd and her team were here, they might be able to find a solution, like boiling the bones to examine the knife marks. In short, this disfigurement must have taken a long time, and it's not something a sane person could do."
As they spoke, they had already left the police medical examination room. Feeling the warm sunlight wash over him, dispelling the chill, Clay shuddered, feeling a sense of returning to the human world.
"Or maybe Jessica Townsend was just unlucky and just happened to have a psychopathic ex-boyfriend."
Seeing that he had almost recovered, Jack tossed him the car keys. "So we should go to her place and ask around."
Unlike Jack's expectations, the so-called "Land of Dawn" had no religious elements. It was simply an agency specializing in providing work visas and matching jobs like English teaching to Americans who wanted to travel but were short of money.
Similar to what he had witnessed in his previous life in China, learning English in South Korea was considered a prerequisite for getting a good job. Private English training centers like New Oriental were everywhere.
Young Americans like Jessica Townsend, hoping to commemorate their student days with a world tour, were their primary source of teaching staff.
The two FBI agents were greeted by the agency's Seoul director, a high-tech Korean woman in her forties or fifties. She reminded Jack of the recently elected South Korean president, er, his wife, a former hostess.
The Korean woman, who claimed to have taken her husband's last name, Thomas, smiled so hard her cheeks practically burst with hyaluronic acid when she saw the two handsome men arrive.
"Sorry, Mrs. Thomas, we're from the FBI, not here to apply for a job," Jack said, pulling out his FBI credentials and explaining his purpose.
The Korean woman, who called herself Mrs. Thomas, looked surprised. "Oh, sorry, I thought you meant sorry. Wait, you mean the American FBI?"
Jack said helplessly. "Yes, that's right, the American FBI. We're here to investigate the murder of Miss Jessica Townsend."
"Oh, yes, I understand. I'm sorry, but I assure you her death had nothing to do with our agency." Mrs. Thomas, not expecting the FBI to appear, looked a bit flustered.
"So, I understand you mean, are you willing to guarantee all employees working for your organization?"
Jack said, his face deliberately stern, trying to intimidate the other party. Applying for a search warrant through South Korea was too troublesome. Since the other party was engaged in international intermediary business, using the FBI's name to bluff them would make things much simpler.
(End of the chapter)